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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742954">The map of our bodies is a blank sheet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yu_gin/pseuds/yu_gin'>yu_gin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Across the sea, under the same sky [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Porn with a lot of feelings and personal growth and also fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:40:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yu_gin/pseuds/yu_gin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In the month they have spent together as a couple, he has started discovering Nicolò's body: what he likes, what he dislikes, and how to read it. However, there are still many secrets hidden between the lines.<br/>Their relationship, since the very beginning, has been about learning and accepting their differences and discovering their similarities.<br/>Looking back at where they started Yusuf smiles proudly, thinking of how far they have come. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>This is the story of Yusuf and Nicolò's first month together.<br/>This is the story of the road they walked until here and how many miles they still have to go.<br/>This is the story of their journey.</p><p>Sequel of "And a wall between us"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, past Joe/OMC - Relationship, past Nicky/OMC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Across the sea, under the same sky [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The map of our bodies is a blank sheet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First of all: thanks to my beautiful server fam who supported me during the writing!</p><p>This story is a spin-off of my long fic "And a wall between us".<br/>I would recommend reading it before continuing, but if you just want to read some porn (I mean, who am I to judge?) here is what you need to know (spoilers for the main fic):<br/> </p><p>  <i>Yusuf and Nicolò are flatmates and they live with Booker in the apartment in front of Andy's, Quynh's, and Nile's.<br/>After getting together, they start to explore their sexual life together.<br/>Stefano and Kamal, two characters that will be briefly mentioned, are Nicolò's and Yusuf's ex-boyfriends, respectively, and neither of them had a smooth breakup. </i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b> The map of our bodies is a blank sheet </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The smell of the herbs hits him, as he kneels next to his grandmother in the garden, dirtying his knees. He grabs her sleeves, catching her attention.</p><p>«Ah, <em>tesoro</em>, here you are. Do you want to help your <em>nonna</em>?»</p><p>He nods, watching carefully as she is picking up the basil leaves.</p><p>«How do we call this herb?» she asks.</p><p>«<em>Basilico</em>» he answers, promptly.</p><p>«And what do we use it for?»</p><p>«The pesto!»</p><p>She caresses his head, smiling. «Very good. Do you want to help me make the pesto?» He nods enthusiastically. «I really appreciate spending time with you, Nicolò, but if you’d rather spend the afternoon playing with your brothers, I wouldn’t get offended.»</p><p>Nicolò turns his head and his face darkens for a moment. «I− I don’t like to play with them. They are mean.»</p><p>«Pietro and Leo? What do they do?»</p><p>«They say that I’m not good at playing football because I’m too small. They say I play like a girl» he pouts. She stands up and puts the basil leaves in the pocket of the apron. Nicolò imitates her and rests his head against her body, while she cups the hand behind his head and holds him tight.</p><p>«That’s not very kind of them» she agrees.</p><p>He shrugs: «It’s fine. I don’t like playing football anyway.»</p><p>«What do you like to do?» she asks. They start to walk, leaving the corner of the herbs and wandering in the wide garden of his grandmother’s house. He can hear his brothers yelling while playing football in the backyard. His sisters are probably sunbathing on the porch, chatting about boys and school and things that – according to them – Nicolò is too young to hear. Sometimes he feels detached from his siblings, like he is being left behind.</p><p>«I like to stay in the kitchen when mom is cooking. I like making the dough for the pizza or helping mom preparing the <em>ragù</em>, but dad says that that’s not what boys are supposed to do. He says that I should play football with my brothers.»</p><p>«Don’t listen to your dad» she says, angrily. «What does he know about the world? He never left this village in his whole life.» Nicolò laughs as his grandmother tickles his nose. «Did you know that, in Paris, all the great chefs are men? And that girls can play football too. You can do what you want, Nico. Would you like to become a chef?»</p><p>«I don’t know. I just like cooking with mom» he says, kicking a stone away from their path, staring at his feet. «I like to taste the ingredients before cooking them and Elisa says that I’m good at cooking, and I’m happy when she says that. I want to become super good! I want to make my family happy.»</p><p>«Then, I’ll tell you the secret to become a fantastic cook,» she says, bringing her finger to her lips. «The secret to being a good cook is to love eating.»</p><p>«I like eating!» he says, firmly.</p><p>«You like the sensation of filling your stomach, but that’s not enough. Sure, we eat because we are hungry, but we cook because food is a pleasure.»</p><p>«But… the teacher at church school told us that gluttony is a sin. That we should only eat because we are hungry.»</p><p>«Listen, Nicolò, who do you think gave us this food that tastes so good?»</p><p>Nicolò thinks about it for a moment. «Uhm, God?»</p><p>«And who do you think gave us the ability to taste food?»</p><p>«God» he answers, this time without hesitating.</p><p>«So, if God gave us the ability to appreciate food and gave us delicious food to appreciate, how can it be a sin to do what the Lord intended us to do? How can it be a sin, if it brings us joy without hurting anyone?»</p><p>Nicolò remains silent for a moment and then says: «Mh… maybe the teacher is wrong.»</p><p>«Maybe the teacher doesn’t have such a beautiful garden with delicious fruit and vegetables,» she says, mocking the teacher’s voice. Nicolò smiles, reassured. She stops by the peach tree and raises her hands, reaping one. «Here,» she says, handing him the fruit.</p><p>He takes the peach and gives it a bite. The juice runs down his hand and arms, as the pulp melts in his mouth.</p><p>«It’s delicious» he agrees.</p><p>«See, there are many different ways to praise the Lord. You can do it by going to the Mass on Sunday, or by praying before you go to sleep, or by being kind to other people. But you can do it also by appreciating what He gave to us. Our beautiful sea, our green hills, and our delicious food. Do you understand me, Nicolò?»</p><p>He nods, wiping out the juice from his lips with the back of his hand.</p><p>«Good. Now let’s go to the kitchen and prepare the pesto, shall we?»</p><p>He follows her into the house but, before stepping inside, he stops. The sun is warm on his skin and the summer is at its peak. He gives another bite to the peach and closes his eyes, tasting the sweetness of the pulp and thinking that something so good cannot be a sin.</p><p> </p><p>His hand grips the sheet as he moans loudly. He knows they are home alone and that he shouldn’t worry about it, but he instinctively covers his mouth with his arm, muffling the sound. When he looks down, a pair of striking blue eyes pierces him, and he feels the distinctive feeling of his orgasm building up from the lower part of his body.</p><p>Nicolò stops for a moment and says: «Don’t cover yourself. I like hearing you.»</p><p><em> Shit</em>. Not coming in the next ten seconds will be extremely difficult. «Why do you seem to like this even more than I am?»</p><p>Nicolò smirks: «Because I am» and goes back to him, taking him in his mouth. He can see that Nicolò is clearly teasing him, playing with his mouth without making him reach the climax. Before he can stop himself, his hips jerk, pushing himself against Nicolò.</p><p>He cries out, mortified: «I’m sorry, I didn’t want to−»</p><p>But once again, Nicolò raises his eyes and looks at him. He stops and says: «If I didn’t want you to move, I would have pushed your hips against the mattress.»</p><p>«Are you sure?»</p><p>«I won’t break, Yusuf.»</p><p>He takes him back in his mouth, this time without teasing and the sensation is too much. He pushes his hips one, two, three times and he comes, crying out his name, and for a moment his mind goes blank. When he looks back at Nicolò, he sees him swallowing, which makes his stomach twitch and his mouth go dry.</p><p>«Well, good morning» he murmurs.</p><p>«Good morning,» says Nicolò, lying next to him and resting the chin on his chest.</p><p>«Look what you are doing to me. I just woke up and I already need to rest.»</p><p>«Then rest, I will prepare breakfast in the meanwhile,» he says, leaving the bed. Yusuf stares at his body while he stretches, enlightened by the dim sunlight coming from the shutters.</p><p>«I didn’t take care of you» he complains, noticing that Nicolò is still hard in his briefs.</p><p>«Don’t worry, <em>hayati</em>. We have all day» he says, leaving their room to reach the kitchen.</p><p>He would like to follow him, but his legs don’t respond. He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of what he did to deserve such a boyfriend. If six months before someone had told him that he would have woken up with a handsome man in his bed, he would have laughed. But here he is, feeling boneless at nine in the morning after receiving a mind-blowing blowjob.</p><p>He hears the noises from the kitchen, the clash of the pans, and Nicolò humming a melody. He looks for his boxer, lost somewhere under the sheets, and manages to leave the bed. He reaches the kitchen and leans against the door, staring at his boyfriend, all focused on flipping the pancakes.</p><p>Nicolò looks at him and grins: «I know that face.»</p><p>«Which face?»</p><p>«The face of someone who’s about to sin.»</p><p>Yusuf smiles as well and reaches him, hugging him from behind and kissing the back of his neck. «You know me so well.»</p><p>«Are you trying to make me burn the pancakes?»</p><p>He doesn’t answer but kneels in front of him and Nicolò knows what is about to come, so he promptly turns off the stove before Yusuf’s hands make him turn and push him against the kitchen counter and lower his briefs.</p><p>He teases him, playing with the tongue until he hears Nicolò sighing and emitting a very quiet “fuck”. He holds his hips against the counter and slowly takes him into his mouth until his chin is resting on his tights. He knows that his beard is going to leave some mild burns on his boyfriend’s skin, and he knows that Nicolò loves to stare at them, as a reminder of what they did.</p><p>He keeps blowing him until Nicolò becomes more and more vocal, muttering unintelligible words in a mix of English and Italian. Yusuf has learned that when this happens it means that Nicolò is close to coming. It takes only a few more skilled strokes to make him come in his mouth, while he grips to the counter and screams his name.</p><p>He stands up and pulls Nicolò into a kiss, cupping his hand behind his head as he felt Nicolò’s body melting and weighing on him.</p><p>«My legs are gone» murmurs Nicolò, resting his chin against his shoulder.</p><p>«So are your pancakes,» he says, staring at the stove.</p><p>Nicolò yells and turns, looking at his burned pancakes. «You made me burn the pancakes! The last time I burned the pancakes I was barely tall enough to reach the counter» he moans, trying to save the pan.</p><p>«Mh, I call that a success» he murmurs, kissing him on the neck. He feels Nicolò’s body shivering at that contact, still oversensitive after his orgasm.</p><p>«You will have to make it up,» he says.</p><p>«As you said, we have all day.»</p><p>In the month they have spent together as a couple, he has started discovering Nicolò's body: what he likes, what he dislikes, and how to read it. However, there are still many secrets hidden between the lines.</p><p>Their relationship, since the very beginning, has been about learning and accepting their differences and discovering their similarities.</p><p>Looking back at where they started Yusuf smiles proudly, thinking of how far they have come.</p><p> </p><p>There isn’t urgency, the first time they strip in front of each other. The shirts and the trousers are quickly gone, but after that, they slow down. Yusuf has seen Nicolò in his underwear before, having lived together for more than one month. He knows about his broad shoulders and his torso, fit without being particularly muscular, and his thick thighs that he already imagines around his waist.</p><p>He shouldn’t feel so shy in front of another man. It’s not his first rodeo, after all. But the last time he stripped in front of someone that really mattered to him was far in his memory and many things have changed since then.</p><p>He looks at Nicolò’s body, following the trail of hair that starts from his navel and disappears into his briefs, and swallows.</p><p>«Mh, shall we…?» he leaves the question implicit, but Nicolò nods and plays with the waistband of his own underwear, removing them, as Yusuf mirrors him. And then they can’t help but stare at each other, without being able to hide their mutual surprise. «Mh, you are not…»</p><p>«And you are…»</p><p>«Right.» Yusuf snorts and Nicolò laughs.</p><p>«I’m sorry» he apologizes. «I mean, I knew that you would be circumcised, I just… forgot about it.» Then he clears his voice and asks: «Can I touch you?»</p><p>«Please, do it.»</p><p>Being touched by Nicolò is different than when he touches himself. His hand is shaky, hesitant, which is surprising given that he knows about Nicolò’s past and he knows that for sure this is not his first time touching someone else. As he makes clear, once he starts with the first strokes.</p><p>Yusuf moans and Nicolò comes closer, kissing first his cheek and then his neck. Those slow and hungry kisses will probably leave some marks on his skin, but he doesn’t care. He wants them to leave marks so that tomorrow, when he stares at himself in the mirror, he will remember what happened.</p><p>Nicolò slowly pushes him, until he finds himself pressed against the mattress of his bed. For a second, a thought crosses his mind: <em>We will need a bigger bed.</em> But then his mind is emptied, and he finds himself overwhelmed by the sensation of Nicolò’s hands on his body. He reaches out, seeking Nicolò’s cock and as soon as he takes it in his hand, he hears a whimper coming from Nicolò and he grins. He plays with his foreskin, mesmerized by the deep sighs that come from Nicolò’s throat. He cups his free hand behind Nicolò’s head, and he pulls him deeper into a kiss.</p><p>In a few minutes, they are both reduced to a hot mess, with their legs tangled in the too-small bed. And when Yusuf comes, Nicolò eats his moan from his lips. Soon after, he feels his body trembling as he comes with a whimper, so quiet that if Nicolò’s mouth hadn’t been next to his ear, he would have missed it. He thinks about Booker’s words: <em>Quiet as a mouse, uh?</em></p><p>They both stare at the mess on their stomach and groan. «Wait, I’ll take care of it,» says Nicolò, leaving the bed and disappearing for a minute. He comes back with some toilet paper and starts cleaning him. His touch, gentle but thorough, makes him shiver. Then he lays next to him and Yusuf can’t help but stare at him, dreamingly.</p><p>«Is it weird if I want to draw you?» he asks, and Nicolò blushes.</p><p>«I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?» he asks, attempting a smug smile, but ending up being sweet.</p><p>«No, but I would like to draw you like <em>this,</em>» he says, pointing at his body. «Would it be okay for you?»</p><p>«I’m… am I really worth it?» he asks, receiving a light slap on the shoulder.</p><p>«Of course you are,» he says, picking the sketchbook from his nightstand. «I want to draw you like this and then when I’ll look at this sketch I will think of this night, of the first time I saw you naked. Of the first time that I touched you.» He runs his hand on Nicky’s back and he feels him melting under his touch. He looks so comfortable and relaxed, sprawled on the tiny bed that they are sharing. He wonders how many times he laid in that bed with other guys, if he was always so open and comfortable. His heart aches for a second.</p><p><em> Maybe he was expecting more, from tonight. Maybe he wanted more. </em> Nicolò’s eyes are closed, while Yusuf passes his fingers through his hair.</p><p>«So, is that how you usually end the night?» he asks, cautiously.</p><p>Nicolò hums and asks: «You mean with a beautiful talented man that for some reason wants to draw me?»</p><p>He laughs, and clarifies: «I mean, are you happy with this?»</p><p>«Yusuf, I think I made it clear that I’m very happy, at the moment.»</p><p>«No, I mean−»</p><p>«I know what you mean,» he says. This time his eyes are open and staring at him. «And I meant what I said: I’m happy with you. If you want to go on, the night is still long and the house is empty and I have… well, everything we could need. But if you want to take it slow, I’m fine with this.»</p><p>Yusuf nods and bites his lips. «Are you sure? Because−»</p><p>«Yusuf, look at me,» he says. «I’ve never been in a relationship. I never even dated anyone. I was so scared of commitment that I denied myself anything apart from sex. Do you want to know how my nights usually go? I meet a guy, we end up in bed, we have sex and, if we are in the mood, we sleep together, or I simply pack my stuff and go back home. Now, if you think that I would switch what we are building now for what I used to have, then you really don’t know me.»</p><p>He remains quiet for a minute and the silence between them is filled by the sound of Yusuf’s pencil scratching the paper of the sketchbook. «I don’t have much experience» he admits.</p><p>«You mean, in terms of number…»</p><p>«Well, yeah, I’ve dated like four guys in my life. But I mean that I didn’t do much with them.» He can feel Nicolò’s eyes on his body, waiting for him to continue. «There are things that I’ve done and things that I haven’t.»</p><p>«Okay,» he murmurs. «Can you be more specific? Only if you are comfortable, of course.»</p><p>«I used my hands and my mouth. Many times. And I had anal sex. As a top. One time.» He swallows and breathes. «That’s it.»</p><p>«Oh.» It takes a minute for him to assimilate the information. «Okay,» he murmurs, still processing.</p><p>«I know it sounds ridiculous coming from a gay man in his twenties…»</p><p>«Yusuf, there’s nothing ridiculous about it. I’m glad you opened up about this with me. We can go as slowly as you need. I would never want to push you into something you are not comfortable doing. You have been patient with me and my issues and you promised to be there for me. The same is true for me. We are in this together, okay? We will find our way through it.» He places his hand on his and squeezes it softly.</p><p>«I just… I don’t want you to patronize me. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m some sort of prude virgin. I want you to be completely honest with me and to be free to ask me anything. But at the same time, I ask you to not take anything for granted.»</p><p>«With you, I would never take anything for granted» he murmurs, smiling. «I promise I’ll be honest with you. And if you are not comfortable, promise you will tell me.»</p><p>«I promise,» he says, holding his hand.</p><p> </p><p>On the day of his sixteenth birthday, Yusuf is sitting in his father’s studio. After dinner, when his mother reached the living room with her book, his father calls him and asks him to follow him. Yusuf taps nervously his feet, while he waits for his father to speak.</p><p>«Yusuf, you are now old enough for us to talk,» he says, and Yusuf gulps, sinking into the armchair and trying to disappear. He knows what it’s about to come and he doesn’t like it in the least.</p><p>«I don’t think it is necessary,» he says, trying to get away.</p><p>«Please» he insists. «Look, I’m sure you already know many of the things I will explain to you tonight, maybe from school or from the internet. But I want you to be prepared for whatever may happen in the future.»</p><p>Yusuf rolls his eyes and sits, uncomfortable, in the armchair. «Fine.»</p><p>«So, when a man and a woman love each other−»</p><p>«Baba, <em>please</em>» he begs. «I know everything. I know about contraception and I know about sexual transmission diseases. We don’t need to go through this.»</p><p>His father nods, cleaning his glasses. «No, I guess we don’t have to. But there are still things that I don’t think the internet can teach you.»</p><p>«Baba» he complains.</p><p>«At your age, you will start to have certain feelings. And you may want to get physical with someone.» Yusuf prays that an earthquake cracks the floor open and swallows him, so he can escape from that conversation. «Which is fine. You are young and full of energy. And the pleasure coming from sexual intercourse can be inebriating, but I want you to be careful. Before starting anything, be always sure that also your partner is consenting and happy to participate. And if in the middle of the act your partner changes their mind, you have to stop, no matter how much you want to finish. And the same is valid for you. If you change your mind, you can always withdraw, is it clear? If you are not comfortable with anything, always say so.»</p><p>Yusuf rolls his eyes, avoiding holding his father’s gaze.</p><p>«Don’t make that face. I know what you are thinking: you think that you know better, that your precious Google can teach you everything. But that’s not true. Sure, you can learn about contraception and that’s great, and I’m sure there are many − how to say? − informative videos online. But there is so much more that they don’t teach you. So many things that are even more important. And I don’t want you to hurt anyone because you didn’t know better, and I don’t want you to let anyone hurt you. Look at me, Yusuf, look at me. I’d rather have all the embarrassing conversations of this world than letting you do something that you may regret. Is that clear?»</p><p>Yusuf nods, shyly.</p><p>«Do you have any questions?» he asks.</p><p>Yusuf stares at his feet and shakes his head.</p><p>«You can talk to me, habibi. You know that.»</p><p>A long silence follows. Yusuf breathes deeply, inhaling the scent of old books and tobacco of his father’s studio.</p><p>«What if I like someone who I am not supposed to like?»</p><p>«Do you mean like… someone who’s already in a relationship, or someone who’s too old or too young?» he asks, trying to hide his concern.</p><p>«No, I mean…» Yusuf hesitates. «Nevermind, it’s not important.»</p><p>«Wait.» His father holds his breath and continues: «I think I know what you mean.» He looks outside of the window and his voice becomes quieter than before. «I’m not going to lie to you. There will be people that tell you that it is wrong, and the law itself prohibits it, and if this is your way, things won’t be easy, and you will have to be careful. However, I want you to know that for me and your mother it is fine.» Then he clears his voice and adds: «And if anything has to happen… I’d rather it to happen here, where you are safe, than in a dirty hotel room or, even worse, in the back sits of a car.»</p><p>Yusuf blushes from the toes to the tip of his hair. «Okay, thanks» he murmurs.</p><p>«You are still young, Yusuf, and life will offer you endless possibilities to fall in love. I was lucky to find a woman like your mother. She is not only my wife, she’s a friend and a companion. She’s my eyes when I can’t see and the arm I seek when I stumble. And every night, before I close my eyes, I look at her, lying next to me, and I know I’ve been the luckiest of the men. And every morning, when I wake up next to her, I know the day will be worth living. One day you will find a person that completes you in the same way that your mother completes me. And when that day will come, I don’t want you to miss your opportunity just because that person is of the wrong gender, or nationality, or religion. Do you understand me, habibi?»</p><p>«I do, baba» he says, nodding.</p><p>He feels his father's hand on his hair and when he raises his gaze, he sees him staring at him with a warm smile. «Whatever will happen, I want you to know that me and your mother will always love you, okay? We just want you to be happy.»</p><p>«Will I ever be? How can I be happy if I have to hide for my whole life?» he asks.</p><p>«The world is changing, Yusuf. I can’t promise you that things will get better soon, but they will get better eventually. Maybe not here and not now, but somewhere in this world, there is a place and a time where you will be happy. Somewhere in this world, there is a person that is worth all the troubles and when you meet them, you will understand.»</p><p>Yusuf smiles, shyly, while his mind tries to picture this person, that remains faceless.</p><p>
  <em> One day, I will meet this person and I will know that they− that he is the one. His smile will be kind, his touch will be soft on my skin, his kisses will make me shiver and his voice, oh his voice alone, will be sweet and soothing, balm of my ears, music for my soul. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>«<em>Cazzo, porca di quella vacca schifosa, vaffanculo forno di merda.</em>» The swearing reaches Yusuf’s ears from the kitchen to his room. He puts down the charcoal and heads to the kitchen, just to find a very pissed Nicolò glaring at the oven.</p><p>«Everything’s okay?»</p><p>«No, it’s not» he shouts angrily. «This stupid oven burnt my lasagna.»</p><p>Yusuf would argue that the oven is a mere object that obeys human orders, but he doesn’t want Nicolò’s rage to be directed against him. «I’m sorry, Nico» he murmurs, hugging him. As soon as he tights his arms around his waist, he feels Nicolò’s body relaxing against his. He rests his chin on his shoulder and murmurs: «Do you want me to cook something?»</p><p>«I can cook a quick pasta, it’s not a problem,» he says, shrugging. Yusuf would reply that he can also cook pasta − yes, he learned from his mistakes − and that dinner is not the focus of the problem.</p><p>«Can I do something to make you feel better?» he asks.</p><p>Nicolò smiles and places a kiss on his temple. «You make me feel better every day.»</p><p>«Nicolò» he murmurs «you know what I mean. You have been so stressed and tense in these weeks and I would like to help.»</p><p>«I don’t want to be a weight,» he says.</p><p>Yusuf takes a deep sigh and says: «Do you remember what we said, the night we first kissed?»</p><p>Nicolò holds it back for a moment and then murmurs: «That we would make this work together.»</p><p>«You are not a weight, Nicolò. I want you to talk about your problems. I want you to trust me.»</p><p>Nicolò nods and says: «I’m having problems with an assignment» he admits. «With many assignments, actually. I have this essay due on Wednesday and I feel like I cannot express my opinions in the best way. Like, I stare at the computer for hours and when I type down a sentence it’s not what I wanted to write.» He emits a disgruntled moan and says: «English sucks.»</p><p>«Okay, do you think it would be easier if you wrote it in Italian?»</p><p>He thinks about it for a while and then adds: «I guess.»</p><p>«Then, how about you write the most difficult parts of the essay in Italian, <em>then</em> you translate them, and then I can help you with the revision. Or we can ask Nile.»</p><p>«I can’t ask you to−»</p><p>«I am your boyfriend and Nile is your friend. I will gladly help you and I’m sure you can easily buy Nile’s time for a homemade pizza. What do you think?» he asks.</p><p>Nicolò smiles: «I think that you are too good to be true» He kisses him, softly. But despite his renewed good mood, Yusuf feels like Nicolò is still hiding something from him.</p><p> </p><p>«You know that staring at me won’t make me finish faster, don’t you?» asks Nile.</p><p>Yusuf rolls his eyes and goes back to his sketchbook. From time to time, he peeks at Nile, to spy on her reactions. Sometimes he sees her picking up the red pen from behind her ear and marking something on the paper, but not so frequently as he thought. When she finally puts down the essay, he stares at her, waiting for the verdict.</p><p>«Overall, it’s not bad. You can see that he’s not a native speaker, but aside from some weird syntactic constructs and a few grammar mistakes, I think it’s okay. Then, I can’t say anything about the content, but to be honest I don’t understand why Nicky is so worried» she says, handing him the papers.</p><p>«He’s been very stressed, lately.»</p><p>«I mean, isn’t he always?» she says, and Yusuf rolls his eyes.</p><p>«I want to help him, but he keeps dodging my offers. I managed to help him in some practical way: I cooked for him, helped him with laundry, I went to pick up some books at the library, but I would like to help him relax. He’s been drinking four coffees per day, he barely sleeps five hours per night and I’m afraid he will start smoking again. He burnt the lasagna and blamed the oven!»</p><p>«Classic Nicky» comments Nile. «He was like this, last year.»</p><p>«And how did he managed to go through the stressful period?» he asks.</p><p>Nile hesitates: «Well…»</p><p>«He found a guy who fucked him until his problems melted away» concludes Andy, joining them in the kitchen. Nile glares at her and she shrugs: «What? It’s true!»</p><p>«Don’t you think this is a little bit indelicate?»</p><p>«Why? Lately, Nicky has been so tense that if you put one of your charcoal up his ass, he would poop a diamond. Now Joe knows exactly what he has to do.»</p><p>Yusuf bites his lips, trying to hide the discomfort. Andy notices it and stares at him.</p><p>«Unless something is stopping you,» she says, studying his response.</p><p>Actually, nothing is stopping him, apart from the fact that they haven’t done it yet. He would lie if he said that he didn’t think about it. He has thought about it every day for the past two weeks, since they first kissed. He thinks about it every night when he clings against Nicolò’s body, burying his face on the crook of his neck, and every morning, when he admires his body as he stretches in front of him.</p><p>He told Nicolò that he wanted to go slowly, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t fantasized about fucking his beautiful boyfriend on their bed until he is reduced to a needy mess, literally begging for it. That image takes his mind, and he swallows, suddenly incapable of thinking of anything else.</p><p>He takes the essay from the kitchen table and jumps from the chair. «I have to go,» he says, promptly, and leaves.</p><p>Before closing the door, he hears Andy saying: «Well, good for Nicky.»</p><p> </p><p>He kisses his shoulder and the back of his neck and he sees his body reacting to his contact. It still amazes Yusuf how receptive Nicolò is to his touch, how he leans against his hand when he caresses his cheek, how he clings to his body when he hugs him.</p><p>«Hey» murmurs Nicolò, turning his face to kiss his lips. «Long day, uh?»</p><p>«Indeed» hums Yusuf, resting his chin on Nicolò’s chest, while the other man passes his fingers through his hair. «Are you tired?»</p><p>«Why do you ask?»</p><p>«Well, I was thinking that Booker is already in his room, probably sleeping. And this has been a long day at the end of a long week…» he purrs, and he feels Nicolò shivering. «So, do you want to sleep or…?»</p><p>«Or» he answers.</p><p>Yusuf grins: «You don’t know what I have in mind.»</p><p>«It doesn’t matter,» he says. «You always have splendid ideas.»</p><p>«You have been very stressed in these days,» he says, looking at him in the eyes. «And I wanted to take care of you tonight.»</p><p>«You don’t have to−»</p><p>«Nicolò» Yusuf interrupts him, sharply. «I know that I don’t <em>have</em> to. But I <em>want</em> to» he says, firmly. And then asks: «If you are into it.»</p><p>Nicolò snorts and says: «As if I would ever say no to this kind of offer.» Yusuf knows that Nicolò loves to take care of him. He likes to spend a large amount of time blowing him and playing with his cock, bringing him to the edge again and again and again while Yusuf feels his orgasm building up until the sensation is too strong. Nicolò knows his body so well and he knows what strings he has to pinch, which keys he has to press. Yusuf, as well, wants to be able to play Nicolò’s body like an instrument, until music comes out of his lips.</p><p>He removes Nicolò’s pajama pants and places a hand on his crotch. He’s still soft but when he raises his eyes to meet Nicolò’s gaze, he recognizes that hunger that he has seen so many times in those weeks.</p><p>He takes off his underwear and lowers his face until his lips touch the base of his cock. The response is immediate, and he can hear a quiet sigh escaping from Nicolò’s throat. He smiles against his skin as he plays with him, following the thick vein from the base until the tip and then taking him in his mouth. This time, his ears are blessed with a whine. He waits until Nicolò is fully hard and then he moves his hand between his cheeks and stimulates the ring of muscles of his hole. Again, Nicolò’s response is immediate, as he pushes his body against Yusuf.</p><p>He stops for a moment and asks: «Would you pass me the lube, <em>tesoro</em>?» Nicolò nearly jumps and his hand reaches out for the first drawer, seeking frenetically the small bottle without even looking and passing it to him. If Yusuf needed a confirmation that Nicolò was down with it, that would count as a “hell yes”. He pours some lube on his fingers and spreads it, waiting for it to warm up a little, before going back to where he left. He lets him get used to his touch, before pushing his index finger inside, slowly and smoothly.</p><p>He can feel that Nicolò’s body is still tense and he places his other hand on his belly and softly murmurs: «Nico, relax. Let me take care of it.» He hears Nicolò taking a deep breath and then he can feel the tension slowly melting, as he works his finger inside him. When he decides that he’s relaxed enough, he slips inside a second finger and tries to reach deeper into him. Nicolò pants and a guttural “fuck” leaves his throat as he presses his head against the pillow and arches his back, pushing again his whole body against Yusuf’s fingers.</p><p>«What do you want?» he murmurs, looking at Nicolò’s watery eyes.</p><p>«Whatever you are more comfortable w−»</p><p>«Nicolò, look at me,» he says, firmly. «Look at me. What. Do. You. Want?»</p><p>Nicolò hesitates for a second before exhaling: «I want you inside me.» Yusuf holds his breath, because Nicolò’s voice is soft and filled with pleasure. «I want you to fuck me against this mattress until I forget everything and everyone, until I can barely talk, until the only word I can say is your name.»</p><p>Yusuf’s brain short circuits as he hears those words leaving Nicolò’s mouth. His Nicolò is a man that prefers to act than to speak, always so quiet and shy about his own pleasure, always thinking of other people’s needs rather than his own. And seeing him finally speaking about what he wants, opening up and showing his more vulnerable side just for him to see, this thing alone pushes Yusuf to rush for the first drawer, seeking the box of condoms. His hands shake while he tries to open one and then Nicolò’s fingers are on his, as he gently takes the condom and opens it with his teeth while holding his gaze. Yusuf has never seen anything more erotic in his life.</p><p>He strips, as fast as he can, already painfully hard, unwraps the condom, and pours a large amount of lube before lining with his entry. He stops for a second and leans against Nicolò, pressing their chests together and pulling him into a kiss. He pushes in with one smooth movement. Yusuf buries himself inside him with a deep sigh and seeks his eyes.</p><p>«Can I−?»</p><p>«Yes, please» he exhales.</p><p>He gives one, careful thrust. And a second and a third. Nicolò’s shy moans slowly become noisier, while he tries to suffocate them by pressing his mouth against Yusuf’s shoulder to muffle the sound.</p><p>«Don’t do it» he murmurs. «Remember what you asked?» When Nicolò doesn’t answer, he leans against him and whispers to his ear: «I want to hear you saying my name when I make you come.»</p><p>He grabs his hips while Nicolò wraps his legs around his waist and pulls him closer as their bodies become one. He touches Nicolò’s cock, holding it in his hand and bringing him close to the climax. And then he slows down. His thrusts become slow and deep and every time the other’s body sinks into the mattress, melting in his arms.</p><p>He goes on like this, bringing him on the edge and then slowing down and every time Nicolò’s moans are more intense, wilder. Nicolò is not small nor light, by any means, and Yusuf is reminded of it any Sunday morning, when he tries to move his body and drag him to the kitchen for breakfast. But at that moment, his body is like clay under his hands and he could do everything to him and Nicolò would let him do it.</p><p>He takes a second to look at Nicolò, his chest moving fast as he pants and sighs.</p><p>«Yusuf» he murmurs, his name soft and sweet on his lips, nearly a whisper. «Yusuf.»</p><p>«Yes, my love?»</p><p>«Please» he whines, as another thrust makes him sink into the mattress.</p><p>«Please what?»</p><p>«Please, Yusuf» he takes a breath. «I need it.»</p><p>«You want to come?» he purrs and the other nods, shyly. «Then come.»</p><p>He places his arm behind his back and raises him until Nicolò is riding him and sinking even deeper on his cock. He takes him in his hand and gives a few firm strokes and finally, he feels Nicolò clenching around him and spilling on his stomach as he comes, with a loud moan.</p><p>He feels his body melting and crumbling against him as Nicolò wraps his arms around his neck. Yusuf tries to pull out, but Nicolò clenches his grip.</p><p>«Go on» he orders.</p><p>«Nico, I−»</p><p>«Yusuf» he hums against his neck and then he raises his face and stares at him, right in the eyes. His clear blue eyes will always make him powerless. «Go on.»</p><p>And Yusuf can only obey. He thrusts one, two, three more times into his boneless body and he finally feels his orgasm building. The moment he comes, his mind empties, and his eyes go blind as he buries his face on his chest.</p><p>Their tired bodies crumble into the mattress and the bed creeks dangerously. Yusuf pulls out and removes the condom, then he turns to his lover, who is staring blankly at the ceiling.</p><p>«Nicolò?» he asks. He doesn’t receive any answer. «Nicolò, are you okay?» he asks, this time worried.</p><p>The other murmurs: «Wow.» Then after a few seconds: «Just… wow» he sighs deeply and Yusuf smiles, relieved. Nicolò turns his head to face him and asks: «How did you get this splendid idea?»</p><p>Yusuf lowers his gaze and murmurs: «I noticed that you were quite stressed in this period» he says, and then adds: «Andy might have mentioned that this could have helped.»</p><p>Nicolò groans: «I’m gonna kill her.»</p><p>«No, you are not. Because if it wasn’t for her, this wouldn’t have been possible. Because you didn’t tell me what you wanted.»</p><p>Nicolò bits his lips. «I’m sorry» he murmurs. «I’m not used to ask.»</p><p>«I want to give you what you want, what you <em>need</em>, Nico, but to do so you need to tell me. I would do anything for you, even if I know I’m not your most skilled lover and maybe sometimes I won’t be able to give you the best orgasm.»</p><p>«Oh, Yusuf. Don’t even think that you are any less than anyone» he murmurs. «The orgasm I had tonight… it was the most intense I’ve ever had in my life.»</p><p>Yusuf blushes violently. «Nicolò, don’t tease me.»</p><p>«I’m not teasing you, I’m dead serious,» he says, holding his gaze. «And you know why it was different from any other?» Yusuf shakes his head. «Because I was with the man I love.»</p><p>Yusuf stares at him, speechless. «You−»</p><p>«I love you, Yusuf.»</p><p>He feels tears filling his eyes and his heart pounding against his ribs. He cups his hand on Nicolò’s face and he pulls him into a deep kiss. «I love you, Nicolò.» He steals him another kiss, before adding: «But I hate you for stealing my moment. I wanted to be the first to say it. I even prepared a speech!»</p><p>Nicolò laughs, burying his face in the crook of his neck. «I’m sorry, I’m sorry» he jokes. «You can still use it.»</p><p>«You want to hear it?» he asks, with a grin.</p><p>«I would love to.»</p><p>That night, Nicolò doesn’t struggle to find some rest. They fall asleep still naked under the blankets, tangled together and stupidly in love.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò follows the guy upstairs to the fifth floor, in trepidation, and as soon as the other opens the door he follows him inside. He looks around and the flat is exactly how he expected it, with cheap furniture and empty cans of beer left on the short table in front of the couch. It’s a normal Friday night of November in Rome: outside of the window, he can see the students partying in the bar right in front of the building, where he met the guy he then followed.</p><p>«I’m sorry,» says the guy – Marco – gesturing at the living room. «My flatmates left a mess before leaving for the weekend.»</p><p>«I don’t mind,» says Nicolò.</p><p>«No, I guess you don’t,» says the other, with a smirk. He comes close and kisses him, before dragging him to the bedroom, where Nicolò is happy to follow him. Marco pushes him on the bed and climbs into it, pressing him against the mattress. «So, how do you like it, usually?»</p><p>Nicolò hesitates. The other guy is already stripping, and he imitates him, as he replies: «I guess it’s fine either way.»</p><p>«Do you prefer to prepare yourself or can I have the honor?» he asks again, and Nicolò shrugs, trying to hide his concerns. «Okay, then.» He prepares him fast and quickly, with skilled movement but without really taking care of him. Nicolò cannot blame him. He’s a random guy he just met in a bar. A guy he didn’t tell that it has never had sex before. He didn’t exactly plan it. That night he went out, aiming for the gay bar that a girl in his course mentioned. His initial plan was to drink a beer, wander around for a bit, and then call it a night and take the last metro home. But then Marco approached him and he seemed like a nice person.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. He cannot hurt me. </em>
</p><p>He just wanted to erase Stefano’s face from his memory. He wanted to replace it with another face, any other, and Marco seemed like a decent option.</p><p>«Are you always this silent?» asks Marco, half puzzled, half amused.</p><p>«I− I don’t know.»</p><p>«What do you mean “you don’t know”?» Nicolò doesn’t answer and the other guy looks at him. «Please don’t tell me that this is your first time.» Nicolò doesn’t deny it, and that alone is an answer. The other guy snorts and sits on the edge of the bed. «Jesus Christ, are you older than eighteen at least?»</p><p>«I’m nineteen,» he says.</p><p>The guy seems relieved and he can see his shoulder relaxing: «Okay, thank God» he murmurs. Then he shakes his head: «Why didn’t you tell me before?»</p><p>«Because I knew you would have treated me differently,» he says.</p><p>Marco groans and stares outside of the window, avoiding Nicolò’s face. «Are you sure this is how you want your first time to be? I mean, I can be gentle, but I can’t make this night special.»</p><p>«I never asked for anything special, I just want−» He snorts in frustration. «I just want to find some relief. I want to stop feeling guilty and start feeling good.»</p><p>«I’m gonna be completely honest,» he says. «I’m not looking for a relationship. I just broke up with my boyfriend and I need… well, I need some time to just fool around and have fun.»</p><p>«It’s okay. I’m not looking for a relationship either.»</p><p>«Good,» says Marco. Then he asks: «So, are you sure you want to go on? If you changed your mind that’s totally fine.»</p><p>«No, I want to do it» he replies, firmly. «Please.»</p><p>The other guy obeys. The discomfort coming from the penetration doesn’t last long and is quickly replaced by pleasure. As his body sinks into the sheets, he loses the concept of time, and his mind empties. He forgets his family and his issues, he forgets where he comes from and what he went through, and for a moment he’s only a guy who is feeling good for the first time in a long, long time.</p><p>Finally, Nicolò feels his orgasm growing inside him and as soon as the other touches him, he comes. A small part of his mind thinks: <em>This could have been Stefano. We could have laid in that bed and kissed and loved each other and build something together</em>. But he shakes those thoughts away. Stefano is far away, somewhere in Milan, belonging to another world.</p><p>Marco gives him a towel to clean himself. «You can stay if you want,» he says and Nicolò accepts, not really because he feels any connection with him, but because he doesn’t want to be alone, not that night. Lying in the bed of the stranger, he asks: «Is it always like this?»</p><p>«What?»</p><p>«Sex.»</p><p>Marco laughs: «You weren’t so talkative in the last hour.» Then he becomes serious and answers: «Sometimes it’s only a good fuck with someone you just met at the bar. Sometimes it’s the closest you can get to another person. You will find out when you get a boyfriend.»</p><p>Nicolò shrugs: «I don’t think I’m cut for relationships.»</p><p>«How so?»</p><p>«When you are in a relationship, the other person knows you well enough to hurt you so bad, and I hate feeling this vulnerable.»</p><p>«Isn’t it the best part, being able to be vulnerable in front of another person? When you can close your eyes and trust the man in front of you. Well, at least until he cheats on you with an Erasmus student» he spits out.</p><p>«See, that’s what I mean: every relationship can only end with a break-up or you get married and spend the rest of your life "until death do us part", and since marriage is not an option, at least not here, it only leaves one possibility. So, what’s the point?»</p><p>«Jesus Christ, you really know how to settle a mood» he comments, snorting. «The point is everything in between. The point is that, for a certain amount of time, this being weeks or months or years, you share your life with another human being. And maybe you suffer at the end, but that’s the price you pay.»</p><p>«And is it worth it?» he asks.</p><p>Marco smiles, bitterly, as he let his gaze wander outside of the window and says: «Sometimes it is. Some people are.»</p><p> </p><p>The music is loud, and The Guard is already crowded. Yusuf glares at the dancefloor where Nile is currently having fun with a cute girl she met that night. He bites his lips and gives a quick look at Nicolò. Part of him would like to drag him there and dance with him, but he knows how much his boyfriend hates dancing.</p><p>«I’m heading out for a moment,» says Nicolò. «The music is very loud, I think I need some fresh air.»</p><p>Yusuf is about to ask: “If you don’t like to dance and you don’t like loud music, why did you come here so often?” and then he remembers: <em>Ah, right, for the boys.</em></p><p>Once they are out, Yusuf can see Nicolò instinctively seeking for something in his pocket, before stopping. Nicolò hasn’t smoked a single cigarette since they got together, one month before, but some gestures are still so natural for him that his body acts before his brain can tell him to stop.</p><p>Nicolò snorts and says: «I− I’m sorry. I’m not exactly the best dancer in London.»</p><p>Yusuf shakes his head. «You have nothing to apologize.» He would lie if he said that he doesn’t care. Sometimes he wishes Nicolò was more relaxed, more spontaneous, and more romantic. But he knew how Nicolò was before they got together, and he would never ask him to change. «Do you want to go home?»</p><p>«No, no, you were having fun. I don’t want to be the party pooper.»</p><p>«You would never be the party pooper. You are my party» he says, kissing his knuckles.</p><p>Nicolò laughs: «Smooth, al-Kaysani,» he says, before pulling him into a quick kiss. «You know, maybe after a beer or two you might be able to drag me to the dancefloor.»</p><p>«Don’t tempt me, di Genova.» They kiss again, this time deeper and longer and he feels Nicolò’s body pushing him against the wall and he grabs his shirt, pulling him even closer. If they were at home, in their room instead of in a public place, Nicolò would probably go down on his knees and takes off his trousers and play with his underwear before giving him a blowjob against the door of their room.</p><p>That thought alone makes him shiver and he feels his excitation growing. Well, maybe going home wouldn’t be a bad idea. Nicolò breaks the kiss and leans against the wall, next to him.</p><p>«So, should I get us something to drink?»</p><p>Yusuf is about to reply that maybe they can just walk home and take advantage of the free house while Booker is still at the bar, but then he stops. And then what? They will kiss and then Nicolò would probably give him a blowjob because he loves to take him into his mouth, he loves to give him pleasure and make him come. And then Yusuf would reciprocate because he loves the sound that Nicolò makes when he’s about to come, the way he says his name when he’s lost in pleasure.</p><p>They have been dating for nearly a month and he has been the one asking to take things slowly and Nicolò has been nothing but patient and respectful, always asking cautiously before attempting anything. Most of the time, Yusuf has been more than happy to fulfill his requests or even suggested some ideas, and the few times he said no, Nicolò has respected his decision and never asked for more. In that month they have already ticked many first times off their list, but one is still missing, and Yusuf can’t stop thinking about it.</p><p>He knows that Nicolò is waiting for him to make the first step because he doesn’t want to pressure him. And a part of him is sick of waiting. There are nights when Nicolò pushes him against the mattress and strikes him with his gaze, sharp as an arrow, and pierces his heart in a way he didn’t know it was possible and he wants more and more and more. There are nights when he wants to pull him closer and whisper: “fuck me” just to see the effect that those words have on Nicolò. But then, he always hesitates.</p><p>Because the romantic part of him is still seeking the perfect moment, and the perfect moment cannot be a Tuesday night, after a long day at the university, when Nicolò hair still smells of cheap Italian food after the shift at the restaurant and both of them have to wake up at seven the morning after. It cannot be a Thursday afternoon, done in a rush before Booker comes back from his lesson, with the noise of the cars coming from the street. And surely it cannot be after a night in a bar when Nicolò is tipsy and Yusuf is just horny.</p><p>Nicolò is still waiting for an answer when Yusuf nods and says: «Something to drink sounds fine.» Nicolò kisses him one last time and disappears into the bar. Yusuf remains outside, sighing.</p><p>
  <em> It’s okay. You will find the perfect moment. It could be one night when Nicolò doesn’t work, when you both have time to relax and enjoy. Or you could wait for him after his shift, cook a nice dinner, and then you could lead him to your bedroom and then things will come naturally, and it will be perfect. </em>
</p><p>Nicolò comes back with a coke and a beer, handing him the can with a rainbow straw. «I forgot to ask what you wanted. Is a coke okay?»</p><p>Yusuf smiles: «It’s perfect.»</p><p>The perfect moment will come. He will do anything to make it perfect. He doesn’t want to have regrets, he doesn’t want to look back at that moment and think that he should have done things differently.</p><p>Not again. Not this time.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the door closes behind them, Kamal’s lips are on his as he pushes him against the door. After a few seconds, they part, and Kamal looks at him and smiles.</p><p>«Are you sure your parents won’t come back?» he asks, cautiously.</p><p>«They won’t be back before two a.m. We have all the time» he says. He stares into Kamal’s dark eyes and smiles. Two months before, when Kamal kissed him at night in front of the sea, Yusuf felt his heart racing in his chest. And not for the fear of being caught by some strangers, but because he had hoped for so long for it to happen. And when they rush to his bedroom, that night, it is not because of the fear of Yusuf’s parents coming back early, but rather because they have been waiting too much time.</p><p>They strip quickly on Yusuf’s bed until they are left with only their underwear on. Yusuf has seen other guys in his underwear before, in the locker rooms, at the gym, he has even seen naked men before, but never in this context. So, when he touches Kamal, the other guy shivers and suddenly he recognizes the concern in his eyes. Yusuf withdraws his hand.</p><p>«I’m sorry,» he says.</p><p>«No, it’s okay, it’s just…» Kamal hesitates. «It’s a little bit weird, don’t you think?»</p><p>«Why?» he asks.</p><p>«Well, we are two men» he murmurs. And Yusuf knows what he means, because he has listened to Kamal’s fears for two months. He knows about his doubts and he has witnessed the sense of guilt that takes his heart, late at night, when they are alone; the bitterness in the corner of his lips every time they kiss. He takes his hands and holds them tight.</p><p>«Kamal, I don’t care about the opinion of other people. I don’t care if they think it’s wrong. I only care about you. And tonight… tonight it’s only you and me.»</p><p>Kamal nods absently, avoiding Yusuf’s gaze for a moment, and then he smiles back and kisses him. They remove their underwear and lie together.</p><p>Yusuf will always remember that night. He will remember his shaky hands, the too generous amount of lube he poured, their bodies, sweaty and messy. He will remember Kamal panting against his neck and asking for more. He will remember them lying together on his bed.</p><p>And he will forever remember Kamal burying his head against his chest and crying.</p><p>He hugs him tight asking if he is hurt and Kamal shakes his head but doesn’t talk. «Kamal, please, say something.»</p><p>He sniffles and manages to say: «I’m sorry. I promise I’m fine.»</p><p>And Yusuf wants to believe him. He wants to believe, at least for one night, that he can be happy with him, that they can build something together. For one night only, he wants to be like any other guy of his age.</p><p>The alarm tells them that is one in the morning. Kamal dresses and says that he has to go. Yusuf leads him to the door and kisses him one last time. The other doesn’t withdraw, but he doesn’t pull him into the kiss either. He smiles shyly, one last time, and he turns to leave. Then he stops for a second, he opens his mouth to talk, but then he shakes his head and disappears over the corner of the stairs.</p><p>Yusuf will remember that moment as the last time he saw Kamal. He will always wonder what he wanted to tell him, which words were too heavy to be said, what stopped him from speaking up, how things could have been different.</p><p>That night he lays in bed and thinks that maybe he has rushed things up, that maybe they should have waited, instead of taking advantage of the first opportunity of having the house free for the night. That he could have set a more romantic mood, he could have been more gentle, more caring. He thinks about that night for weeks and months, until his brain finishes the possible scenarios and he’s left with his grief and his sorrow.</p><p>He keeps staring at Kamal’s last message: “I can’t do this anymore”. He reads it again and again and again, every night for the following months, in the secret hope that if he reads the message another time, maybe this time it could be different. Maybe this time Kamal won’t disappear.</p><p>He learns the hard way that you cannot change the past. But he can learn from his mistakes and never do them again.</p><p><em> One day</em>, he thinks, <em>I will get a second chance, and this time I won’t screw it. This time it will be perfect. This time he will stay.</em></p><p> </p><p>The perfect moment didn’t come on Sunday. He had offered to cook and managed to prepare a decent risotto. He had also lighted a candle and placed it on the table to set the mood. He had even asked Booker for some privacy, and the French guy had disappeared in his room. Everything was perfect. Until Andy appeared in their living room at ten p.m. after a fight with Quỳnh and she ended up occupying their couch.</p><p>Yusuf snorted in frustration as he stared at Nicolò, sitting on the couch with Andy, offering her the last piece of tiramisu, and thought that his heart overflew with the kindness of which this world was not worthy of.</p><p>The perfect moment didn’t come on Monday, when Nicolò came home from his shift complaining about a very rude customer. Nor on Tuesday, when Yusuf’s huge headache obliged him to go to bed before Nicolò even came back from the restaurant. Nor on Wednesday, when Booker insisted on watching the football match together and Yusuf didn’t have the heart to reply that he had other plans in mind.</p><p>Yusuf thought that Thursday would have been perfect, and he even bought some red wine for Nicolò. Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea. When he came back to their room after preparing himself in the bathroom, he found Nicolò already sleeping, wrecked by the working day. He sighed and lied next to him, covering him with a blanket and resting his head against his shoulder.</p><p>By Friday, Yusuf has given up. They even have the home by themselves, since Booker left for a weekend in Marseille and wouldn’t be home until Monday. But it has been a long week and Yusuf is tired of trying and failing.</p><p>He ends up reading on the couch while waiting for Nicolò to be back. When he hears the door opening, he raises his head from the book.</p><p>«Did you already eat?» asks Nicolò.</p><p>«No, I waited for you,» he says, putting down the book and reaching the kitchen. In the fridge, there is still some leftover soup, which they end up eating in silence.</p><p>«How was your day?» he asks.</p><p>Nicolò shrugs: «Boring and uneventful.» Lately, he has been receiving that answer quite often, if not every night. He doesn’t blame Nicolò, they both try very hard to save some time for themselves, mostly during the weekends. Sometimes they cook together, sometimes Yusuf drags Nicolò to an art exhibition, sometimes they spend hours in book shops, picking up books for each other and discussing poetry and literature. Sometimes, when they both feel in the mood, they discover new ways of giving each other pleasure. And those nights, when Yusuf makes Nicolò beg and moans, or when Nicolò makes Yusuf forget his name… those nights are special, and Yusuf remembers all of them.</p><p>But most of the nights, they are too tired to do anything. Most of the nights, they eat together, wash the dishes, and lay in their bed, falling asleep next to each other.</p><p>After dinner, Nicolò joins him on the couch and Yusuf rests his head on his lap, letting him play with his hair. The room is enlightened by the screen of the television, casting the news, and the small abat-jour next to the sofa. Yusuf stares absently at all the tragedies that the speaker is reporting and raises his eyes to look at Nicolò, who is currently holding a book.</p><p>«What are you reading?» he asks, trying to ignore the news.</p><p>«A biography of Saint Monica, mother of Saint Augustin of Hippo, focusing on the influence that she had on the education of her son and consequently on the whole written production of the philosopher.» Yusuf stares at him, not knowing how to reply, until Nicolò says: «Not exactly a bestseller.»</p><p>Yusuf snorts and bursts out laughing, and Nicolò does the same and for a moment the house is filled with their laughers and their hearts are light and careless. Nicolò wipes a tear from his eye, trying to stop laughing, and says: «I’m sorry, you didn’t sign up for an old and boring grandpa, but here I am.»</p><p>«I like my old and boring grandpa.» And he really means it. In the time they spent together, he has learned to love this side of Nicolò. He loves him when he literally grabs the first grey t-shirt from the drawer in the morning and then helps Yusuf choosing which trousers better pair with his shirt. He loves him when he eats two hundred grams of pasta at eleven in the night after a long day of work, rumbling about customers. He loves him when he hears him humming a melody while he cooks breakfast, on Sunday morning, and the way his face lights up when he sees him joining him in the kitchen.</p><p>He reaches out and touches his face, catching his attention, as Nicolò lowers his gaze and looks at him. Yusuf focuses on the dark circles under his eyes and his roman nose that holds his glasses, and his smile, his goddamn smile, so soft and warm it’s almost unbearable. And he thinks: <em>He’s perfect. This man is perfect.</em></p><p>«I want you to fuck me,» he says, in such a casual tone that it takes Nicolò a whole second before Yusuf can witness his reaction. The book on Saint Monica falls from his hands and hits the floor but nobody picks it up. Yusuf bites his lips and adds: «If you are not too tired.»</p><p>Nicolò doesn’t answer, he leans and kisses him while Yusuf uses his elbows to raise from his lap and reach him. Without parting their lips, they leave the couch and Nicolò grabs him for his shirt and drags him to their bedroom. Their clothes are quickly gone, thrown away carelessly as Nicolò pushes him on their bed and follows him right after. But then he slows down and Yusuf follows his gesture as he opens the first drawer to pick the lube and a condom, that he places on the mattress.</p><p>«I’m going to take my time preparing you, okay? If you don’t like something or if it’s too much, you tell me and we can stop. Okay?»</p><p>Yusuf nods and follows Nicolò gestures as he pours the lube on his fingers. He places the other hand on his tight, inviting him to make room for him, and Yusuf is happy to obey. The same hand moves on his hip and Nicolò goes down on him and takes him in his mouth. When he feels like the other is relaxed enough, he moves the other hand between his cheeks, and he plays with the portion of skin between the perineum and his hole. For a second Yusuf thinks that he’s going to come from this alone and he tells himself: <em>Don’t you fucking dare</em>.</p><p>When Nicolò pushes in the first finger, he whimpers, caught off guard by the new sensation, but the discomfort doesn’t last long and soon he finds himself begging for more. When he feels the second finger, he grabs the sheets and moans. Nicolò stops and looks for his eyes, worried.</p><p>«Go on, please» he begs and Nicolò pushes his fingers deeper until he finds that spot he was seeking and Yusuf loses his ability to talk for a second.</p><p>«There it is,» says Nicolò, licking his lips.</p><p>«I think I’m ready.» He doesn’t know if he’s ready, he’s not sure of what he should expect, but he knows that if he doesn’t have Nicolò inside him in the following minute, he is going crazy.</p><p>«Be patient, my love. This time is also for me» says Nicolò. Yusuf realizes that the other is no longer doing it to prepare him, but because he is actually enjoying the act of giving him pleasure. Because he likes the way his body reacts to his touch, how easily he can make him moan and whine. So, he closes his eyes and he trusts him completely, knowing that whatever Nicolò gives him, he will be glad to take.</p><p>When he feels Nicolò pulling out his fingers, he opens his eyes. He sees Nicolò unwrapping the condom and pouring the lube. Then he comes closer and kisses him, deep and softly, and he can feel him pushing against his entrance, even playing with it, teasing him until he murmurs: «Nico, please.»</p><p>And then he pushes in, so slowly that Yusuf thinks he will go crazy. He hisses and Nicolò stops, searching his eyes. Yusuf immediately reassures him: «Give me a second» he murmurs. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his body, from the shoulders to his legs. «Okay, go on.»</p><p>His body opens up for him as Nicolò buries himself inside him. And when he’s completely inside, Yusuf feels overwhelmed by the sensation of having his Nicolò inside him and wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him closer, until their foreheads rest together and they breathe, deeply, sharing the air between them.</p><p>«Can I move?»</p><p>«Please, do» he murmurs. Nicolò gives a first, careful thrust, which makes him moan loudly. He moves slowly and smoothly, holding his hips and studying Yusuf’s expressions. Yusuf struggles to think, and his mind is fogged by pleasure. He opens his mouth and pants: «More.»</p><p>And Nicolò obeys. He grabs one of his legs and bends it against his chest. This new position not only makes Yusuf feel more open and vulnerable, but it allows Nicolò to go even deeper. He pulls out until only the tip of his cock is left inside him and then he pushes in with one smooth movement, hitting that spot that makes Yusuf scream.</p><p>«Fuck, please don’t stop» he begs. Nicolò starts to move faster until all Yusuf can do is muttering his name in a messy chanting: «Niconiconico.»</p><p>«I’m here» he whispers. «I’m here, Yusuf.»</p><p>When he hears that the moans coming from Yusuf are more tired and erratic, he slows down, and he takes his cock in his hand and gives it a stroke.</p><p>«Nico» he murmurs, incapable of saying his whole name. «I’m coming.»</p><p>His thrusts become deeper and more intense, hitting that spot every time, until it’s too much and Yusuf comes on his stomach. Before Nicolò can pull out, he drags him into a kiss, cupping his hands behind his head and devouring his lips. He whines at the sensation of emptiness when Nicolò leaves.</p><p>He then notices that Nicolò didn’t come and he points it out.</p><p>Nicolò shrugs: «It doesn’t matter.»</p><p>«Of course it does,» he says. Then, softly, he adds: «Come here.»</p><p>Nicolò lays next to him and he takes him in his hand, stroking him firmly and teasing the tip with his thumb. When he knows that he’s about to come, he kisses him, eating his moans as he fucks his hand. They take a moment to stare at the mess that they made and groan.</p><p>«I’ll go take a towel,» says Yusuf but as soon as he tries to stand, Nicolò pushes him back down.</p><p>«Don’t you dare» he says, in a firm tone.</p><p>«Bossy» he jokes and follows Nicolò with his gaze as he disappears outside of the room just to come back with toilet paper and a wet towel. He takes his time to clean him carefully and then places a kiss on his cheek.</p><p>«All’s good?» he asks.</p><p>«A little bit sore. But that’s part of the game, isn’t it?» he asks and Nicolò laughs. «Anyway, it was so much worth it.»</p><p>«I’m glad to hear that» he purrs, kissing his neck and resting his cheek against his chest.</p><p>«Now I feel a little stupid,» he says, shaking his head.</p><p>«How so?»</p><p>«Because in this month I’ve been waiting for the “perfect moment” to come.»</p><p>«And why tonight?»</p><p>«Tonight, yesterday, tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter. Because it was with you, and only you mattered» he says, staring at his blue eyes and feeling his heart overflowing with love. «I couldn’t be luckier.»</p><p>That night, when he holds Nicolò in his arms, he thinks of how different it could have been that night. What if he asked him before dinner? What if he waited until they were in bed? What if he waited until the morning after? Would it have been better? But then he shakes those thoughts away and he breathes deeply, holding him tighter.</p><p>
  <em> When I first kissed him, he ran away and then he came back. When things went wrong, we fixed them, one by one. When everything was against us, we fought back and made it work. </em>
</p><p>He falls asleep knowing that, the day after, he will wake up and Nicolò will be there, laying next to him. Knowing that Nicolò will stay.</p><p> </p><p>The day after, Nicolò wakes Yusuf up with a blowjob, and Yusuf repays him by making him burn the pancakes. After breakfast, Nicolò spends part of the morning scraping the burnt pancake from the pan, while Yusuf does the dishes.</p><p>When Yusuf announces that he will take a shower, Nicolò simply follows him. He spends way too much time washing Yusuf’s hair and playing with his curls, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck that makes the other shiver. And when Yusuf turns and looks at him in the eyes, he recognizes his smirk.</p><p>«Nico» he admonishes him, playfully.</p><p>Nicolò just licks his lips and says: «Don’t worry. We have all day.»</p><p>For lunch, Nicolò cooks some curry chicken and they eat it at the kitchen table, chatting about the news. After lunch, they go shopping for food and they enjoy the warm weather in May. Once they are back home, they spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning the house, until they are too tired, and they end up ordering Chinese food and eating it on the couch, watching a sappy romcom.</p><p>Nicolò pretends he doesn’t see what Yusuf is doing, when he casually takes his sketchbook and, from time to time, he peeks at his boyfriend. And when the movie finishes and neither of them is able to say how it ended, too distracted by each other, they simply move to their bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind, like breadcrumbs dropped to find their way home.</p><p>When Yusuf takes him on their mattress, Nicolò’s moans are wild and noisy. Yusuf still remembers the first time he touched him and how he came with the quietest whimper and he wonders if this change is due to his improved skills in bed or if it’s because now Nicolò feels safer and more confident, and he doesn’t know which option he prefers.</p><p>After they finish, Nicolò lays on his stomach, his body heavy on the mattress in his post-orgasmic bliss, and his head sinks in the pillow, while Yusuf sits next to him. He could stare at his broad back for hours. His fingers run on his skin like a compass, connecting the moles and tracing a path from his neck to his hips and back, in an endless journey.</p><p>Nicolò’s body is like a map, traced years after years, and his whole story is written there. His lighthearted childhood, his gloomy adolescence, his first heartbreak, and then his turbulent years in Rome, while he was still exploring his sexuality, and finally in London, where they met. And Yusuf knows that other men have touched his body, other men have kissed his skin, other men have given him pleasure and taken from him, but he doesn’t care.</p><p>Because the first time he saw him, his body was still a blank sheet, a wide unknown land he had yet to explore. And day after day he became familiar with every detail, with his sharp edges, with his smooth curves, with the uncountable paths that his lips can trace when he kisses him.</p><p>For him, sex has always been an encounter of two souls, the highest peak of romanticism, a form of pure love, while for Nicolò it has been an act of rebellion, a reclamation of his body, the satisfaction of a hunger he has been taught to despair. They were both right. But there was more.</p><p>Because sex, for them, has been another way of knowing each other, of discovering their secrets, of unveiling those truths that words could not hold. Sex has been paving unexplored paths, day after day, without knowing where they would lead them.</p><p>Nicolò turns his head, wearily, and their eyes meet.</p><p>«What are you thinking?» he asks.</p><p>
  <em> I think that I would go everywhere with you, until the edge of the world, until the end of time. </em>
</p><p>«Nothing, my love» he murmurs, slackly passing his hand on Nicolò’s hair.</p><p>A day will come when he knows Nicolò’s body completely and there will be nothing left for him to explore, and maybe he will stop looking at him in awe when he sees his back arching in pleasure or his lips parting, seeking words, and he won’t feel the desire to have him again and again and he will get tired of saying that he belongs to him in every possible way.</p><p>But that day is still far, and years, decades, centuries, maybe even millennia will pass. Maybe it will never come.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me, three weeks ago: "Yes, a smutty one-shot, as a treat, nothing too long, 5k words or something like this"<br/>Me, now, holding this over 12k words monster: "Oh, well."</p><p>I tried so hard to put into words what I think could be the evolution of their relationship, focusing on how their different educations, characters, and personal histories influenced their behavior.<br/>I wanted this to be a sort of arc for both Joe and Nicky, where Joe has to work on his tendency to idealize relationships while Nicky has to learn to trust people again.<br/>And then sex. A lot of sex. Because, why not?</p><p>This is the result, let me know what you think about it!</p><p>The next spin-off will be our boys visiting Yusuf's parents in Tunisia, following them visiting Nicolò's parents in Italy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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